A Ghost in Hogwarts
by Brian01
Summary: What would happen if the Imperium tried to invade Earth? And what if they chose Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry as the landing zone. Note; Earth is not Terra in this fic. AU. Rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1: Landing, maybe

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer, Gaunt's Ghosts, Harry Potter or any characters or ideas connected to aforementioned sources. The only things I own in this story are the plot line and any OCs that appear.**

**Imperial Guard Drop ship, descending from orbit, 31****st**** of August 1999, 0900 hours Standard Terrain time**

He was terrified. That was the only way to describe it. The drop ship rattled like it was about to come apart at the joints. He recalled the briefing that Domor, Sergeant Domor had given them back in Orbit. It was a planet almost identical to pre-crusade Terra, according to the records available to high command, the technology, culture, borders and geography were identical. The only noticeable difference from the records was the blank spots on the sensors. These occurred in an apparently random pattern all across the planet.

The only similarities in these 'blind spots', so called by Sgt. Domor, was the large amount of contained warp energy held within something that appeared similar to a void shield in nature. The scouts sent down to seek out suitable landing zones had found nothing but rolling green plains with a derelict castle, forest and a large lake. They also described a feeling of being watched and that they had forgot something. Because the area was a large plain, it had been chosen as the LZ, it was also reasoned by Command that if their sensors couldn't find anything there then the much more primitive sensors of the planets sensors wouldn't be able to find them. The natives also spoke Low Gothic.

But ever since the LZ had been chosen he hadn't been able to shake a bad feeling about the drop. Now that feeling had been justified. As soon as his drop ship, the first in the formation incidentally, had pass the ten thousand foot mark the engines stuttered and died while the rest of the drop ships had reported that the ships were refusing input from the main and all secondary consoles while they returned to the carriers in orbit.

Apparently it was as if the ships Machine spirits had taken over, going by the Vox-exchanges he could hear. "Ten thousand feet to impact! One thousand! Five hundred! One hundred! Brace for impact!" he could hear the pilot over the roar of the ships uncontrolled descent. As the pilot shouted out the one hundred mark he got a glance out of the forward view screen.

It would have been breathtaking, if they hadn't been hurtling at the castle at a few hundred miles per hour. There was a beautifully magnificent castle. To one side was a large mass of trees and a largish Hut. Somewhere in between the forest and the castle was a gnarly looking tree with violently swinging branches. On the other side was a large body of water with some tentacles waving out of it.

It only took him a few seconds to take all this in before there was a large crash and he lost consciousness.

**Headmasters Office, Hogwarts, Somewhere in Scotland, 31****st**** of August 1999, 0900 hours standard Terrain time**

Albus Dumbledore was having a good day. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was going to be on the Hogwarts Express on his way to his first year at Hogwarts and the Philosophers Stone was secured in the bowels of the school, protected by measures put in place by the staff.

He _had_ been having a good day until the large metal machine crashed through the roof of his office. After he had recovered from the shockwave he sent a Patronus message to each member of the staff and called the House elves to open an entrance to the, well he didn't know exactly what it was but he thought it was a ship.

As soon as the staff had arrived and the door was open, they all rushed into the machine. What they found shocked them even more than the machine. The hold of the ship had contained numerous packs of equipment, weapons and other items. There was only one passenger. And he was about eleven years old. He was dressed in skin tight black vest, black cargo pants, black equipment webbing and a strange cloak that shifted and shimmered as it moved. It seemed to shift in colour to roughly match the back ground. "How interesting. It seems like a primitive version of an invisibility cloak. How do you think he got his hands on it?" Albus Dumbledore commented "Well we'd best get him to the hospital wing, those scrapes look pretty bad."

**This is just an idea I got. Review to tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting the locals

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer, Gaunt's Ghosts, Harry Potter or any characters or ideas connected to aforementioned sources. The only things I own in this story are the plot line and any OCs that appear.**

**In response to ****notenufdakka's review; wizards are not psykers in this story just highly advanced humans with the ability to purify and harness warp energy for their own use.**

**Hogwarts, Hospital wing, Somewhere in Scotland, 1200 hours standard Terrain time, 1****st**** September 1999**

When he woke up it felt as though an Ork had bashed him over the head with a tree trunk. He sat up and groaned. He was alive, so that was something. He seemed to be in an infirmary of sorts, even if it was missing the usual all pervading stench of antiseptics. He quickly checked that he had all his equipment. Well whoever was in command in this place had obviously never dealt with Imperial Guard before, as they had left him with all of his equipment. He stood up and glanced in the mirror place beside his bed. He froze.

He was a kid, a fething _kid_! How in the name of the God Emperor had _that_ happened! He decided that he'd ponder on this...development when he was back with the rest of the regiment in orbit. He armed his lasguns, which felt big and unwieldy in his now much smaller hands. It was a good thing that he was still as strong as he had been before the drop even if most of his equipment was still the same side. His camo-cloak was the right size for his new form. Judging by his current height, he was about ten or eleven standard years old.

He set of from the infirmary like room in search of the drop ship. Luckily his Tanith sense of direction still worked. He was sneaking past a large pair of oak double doors when the doors on the other side of the large, high ceilinged room opened and a motherly looking woman bustled out the door. He cursed himself for his carelessness, not bothering to camouflage himself in an unknown location with potential hostiles. How much more stupid could he be! It was in that moment that the woman spotted him. "Oh good, you're up. But you really should be in the Hospital wing resting. You had a fractured skull so you should be resting." She said in a strict voice that brooked no argument. He brought his lasguns around to cover her. "You'll come no closer, ma'am, until you explain where I am, who you are and why the feth I went from being twenty-two terrain years of age to being eleven!" he told her, daring her with her eyes to argue. "Well if you're going to be difficult..." with that she drew a short stick and shouted "Stupefy!" The jet of red light struck the ground where he had been standing barely a second before. That was the first and, he suspected, last time he would be grateful of the training he had received in the Guard. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough as the light caught his ankle. He had just enough to time to think 'Oh feth, not again', before he passed out.

**Great Hall, Hogwarts, Somewhere in Scotland, 1215 hours standard Terrain time, 1****st**** September 1999**

Poppy Pomfrey, better known as Madam Pomfrey, had just finished her lunch and was going to check on her only patient, that mysterious boy who they found in the giant machine, which they had had no luck thus far in removing.

She excused herself from the table and walked out of the big double doors at the end of the Great Hall. When she got outside she saw the boy that _should_ have been in the Hospital Wing resting. "Oh good, you're up. But you really should be in the Hospital wing resting. You had a fractured skull so you should be resting." She said to the wary eyed boy. "You'll come no closer, ma'am, until you explain where I am, who you are and why the feth I went from being twenty-two terrain years of age to being eleven!" he replied. She stopped dead on the spot. What was the child talking about? Twenty-two to eleven? Feth?

Perhaps she should look him over more closely. He must have hit his head harder than she first thought. "Well if you're going to be difficult..." She said before she launched two stunners at the boy. He quickly jumped to the side. She was shocked. The boy had moved so fast that he was little more than a blur. Although he managed to avoid the first stunner, the second knocked him unconscious.

As she was levitating the child back up to the hospital wing, she pondered his words. She heard someone running up the stairs. She turned around and saw...

**That's all for this chapter. Sorry about the cliffy but this chapter's run out of steam. Find out who followed Poppy up the stairs next chapter. And don't forget to review.**


	3. Chapter 3: Ghostly Prophesy of DOOM!

**AN: Here's the next chapter of the story, sorry it's short, but I hope you enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms or characters, just borrowing them, I'll give them back, honest.**

* * *

><p>As Madam Pomphrey climbed the stairways with her wayward patient, she pondered the events that had occurred at the foot of the great staircase. Her patient had awoken hours earlier than he should have give the potions that he was under the influence of. So how had he done it? And was it connected with how he moved when she tried to stun him? Veteran Aurors and Hitwizards were the only ones that she had seen move in such a way. What did that say about the boy? She mentally added it to the "Strange things about the strange boy who came in the strange metal box." folder in her mind.<p>

So intent on the Enigma of the boy was she, that she completely missed the presence of the ghost who was taking a gander down the staircase. She was rapidly alerted to this fact by the ghost's incomprehensible shriek of terror.

"Ahhhh, he comes! The hidden ones approach! The beasts of rage clamour! The beings of mindless pleasure slither! The pestilence comes! HE shall stand against them with the golden hosts of the half-dead god!"

Pomphrey jumped backwards in fright, looking franticly for the source. After several terrified seconds of searching, she heard a rather disgruntled boy say "It was that transparent crone by the bannister." in a heavy accent that she couldn't identify. It was as though the speaker had travelled to so many different countries that they didn't have any defining idioms, slang or pronunciation that would make them difficult to understand. She looked over toward the bannister and saw that there was indeed a ghost of a crone cowering near the edge of the stairwell.

As a matter of fact, she recognized the crone! She was the previous divination teacher, the one who would give out a prophesy a day. That she, as a ghost, was terrified by her vision did not bode well for the living.


End file.
